


Dead Daves Are the Enemy

by doxian



Series: Homestuck Shipping World Cup 2013 [7]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Blood, Caliginous Romance | Kismesis, Canonical Character Death, Choking, Consent Issues, Dream Bubbles, Fighting, Frottage, Homestuck Shipping World Cup 2013, M/M, Self-cest, doomed character, dream death, dream murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-18
Updated: 2013-08-18
Packaged: 2017-12-23 21:17:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/931183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doxian/pseuds/doxian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Oh, fuck me," he says, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed like a tool, a corner of his mouth quirking. "It's you. The Real Dave TM."</p><p>"Uh, yeah," you say. "And this has been a blast, really, we should catch up again some time, but I've got places to be so I'm gonna skedaddle, I'm a busy man -"</p><p>"How about no," he says. He clears the distance between the entrance and the Quest Bed in a matter of seconds and punches you square in the face.</p><p>Written for HSWC <a href="http://hs-worldcup.dreamwidth.org/12848.html?thread=2418736#cmt2418736">bonus round 6: companion pieces</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dead Daves Are the Enemy

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this fill by sleiin in br1](http://hs-worldcup.dreamwidth.org/3493.html?thread=836005&posted=1#cmt1313957). [[Tumblr link](http://sleiin.tumblr.com/post/52788913353/time-is-something-no-one-can-escape-it-delivers)]

You wake up with pins and needles in the arm you'd been laying on. The incessant nakking of your reptilian consorts has stopped, and now all you can hear is an eerie creaking and groaning that seems to come from very far away - or from under several layers of rock.

Turning on your back, you spend a good few minutes gazing blankly up at the lavacicles above you, arms and legs splayed out like a starfish. You're not sure why past you thought it was a good idea to doze off after fleeing for the Mayor's life - evil dog Jade could spacezap herself right next to you at any moment. Now was the time for keeping vigilant, not napping like a bona-fide chump.

Speaking of the dear, sweet, precious Mayor, you should go look for him. There's no telling what shenanigans that ol' rogue might be getting up to while left to his own devices - he could very well have organized the nakkodiles into some sort of actual community. By now he might have them putting together a legislative council or building a municipal library or worse.

It's when you sit up that you realize you aren't in the cave you fell asleep in - the fact that you're sitting on your land's Quest Bed is your first fucking clue.

You're dreaming.

You're still not accustomed to the initial dissonance, even after an entire sweep of this. Where you are probably makes it worse. You closed your eyes on LOHAC and opened your eyes on LOHAC, and aside from the silence everything feels the same as it did in the waking world.

You suppress a shudder. Bad fucking memories in this place, ones you'd rather not dwell on. You can't wake yourself up (you'd tried the pinching thing a long time ago and, surprise, it hadn't worked) but you can at least get the hell out of here and kill some time until you wake up.

"Yo," your own voice pierces the quiet and you jump. You spin around, look past the gleaming amber walls with nakkodile glyphs carved into them, can't see anything, look to your right instead and spot him emerging from the shadows of one of the narrow corridors leading into the room.

He's wearing that piece of shit Felt Duds eyesore and he's covered in blood that's spurted all over his front from a slit across his throat.

"Hey," you say. Ugh, bad memories personified. You've run into your fair share of Dead Daves already - shit, you've been fuck deep in Daves in the game and in the dream bubbles both - and you don't exactly feel like dealing with yet another one right now. Also this one is different, something about him is creeping you out besides the getup.

"What's with B-list horror movie look?" you say, going for sardonic and not quite succeeding. The blood from his neck seems to be flowing at a slow trickle, but that would make absolutely no sense. "Haven't figured out how to change your appearance? You can shift your environment too you know, this isn't _The Grudge_ , you don't have to haunt the place you died, shit must get boring after a while -"

"Oh, fuck me," he says, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed like a tool, a corner of his mouth quirking. "It's you. The Real Dave TM."

"Uh, yeah," you say. "And this has been a blast, really, we should catch up again some time, but I've got places to be so I'm gonna skedaddle, I'm a busy man -"

"How about no," he says. He clears the distance between the entrance and the Quest Bed in a matter of seconds and punches you square in the face, making your head snap to the side.

"Dude, what the f -" he uppercuts you this time, in the jaw, fucking _ow_. The force of it sends you reeling onto your back. He's on you instantly, holding you down, corner of his mouth still quirking up as you struggle.

"You sure took your sweet time," he says, calm, cool, like he's not currently wrestling with his alternate self in a mind-simulation of the place where he died. "I've been waiting."

"Thought we were too cool for this evil twin bullshit," you say, talking too fast. "Pretty sure we agreed. Fistbumped on it and everything. Didn't keep hella close track on the Dead Dave pile, but a Dave definitely fistbumped another at some point in the timeline. I think. Whatever, point is that fistbumping took place, so let's cut the corrupt doppleganger thing pronto, am I making myself clear?"

"Oh my fucking god, stop," Other You commands. "Stop running your mouth, right now. No pointless babbling, self-centered whinging and please oh please no quote unquote witty ironies. Just shut your trap and listen for a change."

You were right - the blood _is_ still trickling. It's fresh, wet, dripping down his neck and straight onto _you_. You grimace as it hits your god tier robes, thick and red and disgusting.

"There are more of us," he says. "Other Dead Daves who've spent eternity sitting around, scratching our noggins, wondering why the hell you got to be the alpha when you sent most of us to our graves. Pretty shitty deal. All cause you wanted to look like a hotshot, impress Jade with your mad timehopping fighting skillz, make a few gazillion boondollars at LOHACSE. First rule of timehopping is you don't use it unless you _have_ to, haven't you learned that by now, you utter dicklord? Aren't you supposed to be the Knight of Time? Time travel is like fucking karate, you learn how to use it, but -"

"I _do_ know, asswipe, I've given it up," you're still pushing against his grip. "I just told Grimbark Jade, she challenged me to an honest-to-god duel and punted the Mayor off a building and I didn't travel, not even then -"

"Shh, wait, did you hear that?" he snaps, pushing you down onto the stone harder. "That was the 'shoosh' of you completely missing the point. The point just flew clean over your head like a fighter jet with its course locked. You wouldn't have got that point even if you'd transformed into a 64 foot giant freak of nature and walked right into it. Dave, what I'm trying to tell you is that you're fucked. So royally screwed you should be wearing a fucking crown."

His hands are at your neck now and he's close, so close, all up in your grill, practically fucking straddling you.

"Eventually you're gonna kick the bucket too, there's no escaping it," he gets his fingers around your throat and starts to squeeze. "Time catches up to all of us. And when that happens we'll be here, waiting to even out the score, waiting to get our hands on you, just like this."

You can feel his erection against your thigh - urgh, _god_ , ghostboner, how does that even _work_ \- and by now you've stopped fighting. You're just clutching at his wrists but letting him choke you so that you'll dream-die and wake up and won't have to listen to him talk anymore. He squeezes harder and grinds down on you and you groan and wonder, absently, as your breathing begins to stutter out, just what made this Dave ferment in the memories of his death like this instead of moving on.

The last thing you see before you black out is the blood at his neck and the mouth-quirk blossoming into a full-fledged, razor-sharp grin.

You wake up, for real this time, in the cave you'd fallen asleep in, gasping, cold sweat on your brow and hands scrabbling uselessly at your neck. You frantically pat along your collarbone and your hands come away bloodless. You stare at your clean, pale, trembling palms for a few seconds before abruptly standing up - the Mayor, you need to look for the Mayor.

You set off through the cave, determined to flush this nightmare from your pan. You will not think about this ever again.


End file.
